


Kissing Lessons

by cabins



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Miya Atsumu is a Little Shit, Sexual Tension, Some Plot, and also hot, but like barely any, literally just good happy sakuatsu to fill the void, when you're Sakusa Kiyoomi and you have unfortunate feelings for your setter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29773617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabins/pseuds/cabins
Summary: Kiyoomi was sure he'd figured out the three things made Miya Atsumu absolutely unbearable:1. his personality2. his looks3. the fact that despite being the sexiest man Kiyoomi has ever met, he never shut up.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 100
Collections: My favorite haikyuu fics





	Kissing Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: sorry for accidentally tagging it major character death omg nobody dies I swear

With the Black Jackals, Kiyoomi had quickly learnt that moments of silence were few and far between. It was hard to find time to be alone, and even harder to enjoy it. On the rare occasions that he was able to escape the clutches of the over-energized monsters he played with, their screeches and calls could still be heard for what felt like miles. 

As such, it was out of necessity that Kiyoomi made the most out of down-time when he got it.

He turned the knob of the kitchen sink, waiting a moment for the cold water to turn hot, before sliding his personal kettle underneath the stream. It slowly began to fill, and the steam that billowed out the top of it left condensation on the tile backsplash behind the faucet. 

(Kiyoomi refused to touch the shared kettle in the kitchen with a ten-foot pole. He’d invested in his own shortly after witnessing Bokuto suspiciously leave his room with it without explanation. None was needed, anyway. He’d practically had nightmares of the horrible and inappropriate things he guessed Bokuto had done with the thing, and that had supplied all the information he ever wanted to have in regards to it.)

He carefully shut off the water as it reached the fill line, closing the lid overtop before sliding it onto the electric stovetop. As he turned the knob to heat up the correct plate, he saw a figure enter the kitchen from the corner of his eye. 

“Hey, Omi-kun,” Atsumu began slyly, leaning onto the countertop at the other end of the kitchen and watching Kiyoomi carefully. Grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, and the distinct black waistband of his Calvin Klein boxers was a stark contrast against the toned muscle of the setter’s body. 

Now, it ought to have been common knowledge that three things made Miya Atsumu absolutely unbearable.

The first, and arguably most important, was his personality. He was brash, cocky, and selfish. It made working with him a pain and unwillingly living with him in the dorm complex even worse. The second, and somewhat less important, was how hot he was. The man oozed sex appeal like sweat. It dripped from him like chocolate from a fountain, all strawberries and seduction. 

These two aspects of Miya Atsumu were what made the third reason even possible. Atsumu was probably one of the sexiest men Kiyoomi knew, but he was unbearable ever. At the very least Ushijima Wakatoshi didn’t talk much. One could admire his body and looks all they wanted, and he didn’t ruin it by talking their ear off with a shitty accent. 

Atsumu never shut up. If he caught you staring, you’d never hear the end of it. Kiyoomi had often wondered the only time one could ever truly enjoy Atsumu’s presence was when he was asleep because he was certain that even during sex all the blond would be able to talk about would be himself. 

(Not that Kiyoomi had put considerable thought into Atsumu’s sex life or what time in the bedroom with Atsumu would be like. No, not at all. He’d simply watched a documentary on narcissists, created his own diagnosis for Atsumu, and considered the possibilities. 

Kiyoomi absolutely did _not_ want to sleep with his setter. No way.)

He let out a noise of acknowledgement as he brushed past the blond, making his way to the living room as he waited for the water to boil. Normally, these evenings were his own to enjoy, where he’d put on some bland documentary that would help him relax his mind as a warm tea lulled him into a sleepy state. 

“Have ya’ checked Twitter recently?” Atsumu asked, still leaning lazily up against the countertop.

Kiyoomi, in fact, _had_ checked Twitter recently. Before he’d dared to traverse the hellish depths of the Jackal’s dorms, Komori had retweeted the most unfunny shit he’d ever seen with the caption ‘Sakusa, this you?’ which had then effectively flooded his mentions with replies to the tweet. 

No, it most certainly was not him, and if they’d been in the same city, Komori would have been a dead man.

It didn’t matter that around an hour prior his Twitter had been as dry as the Sahara, because when it came to Atsumu he didn’t ask people questions without a specific answer in mind. He didn’t want the truth, he wanted to be indulged.

“No, I haven’t,” Kiyoomi lied, collapsing into his regular spot on the couch and grabbing the remote for the tv, “Did you post a thirst trap again and you’re looking for the team to retweet it to increase exposure? If so, you should know that I still have you blocked.”

“No, actually,” Atsumu began, following close behind and coming to a stop a few feet away, “wait, you have me blocked?”

The tone of his voice suggested incredulity, and Kiyoomi couldn’t help but let out a snort of amusement. Again, Atsumu wasn’t actually blocked, but for all Kiyoomi paid attention to his tweets he might as well have been.

(He actually paid quite a bit of attention to them. Way more than he’d like to admit, but could you blame him with all the sponsored Calvin Klein photoshoots and post-shower photos he’d share? No, only fools would hold that against him. He was only human, after all.)

“Whatever, not what I came to talk to ya’ about,”

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes, adjusting the volume of the TV slightly before shifting his gaze to Atsumu, “Get on with it already, then.”

“Well, one of yer exes has been stirrin’ the pot on there, causin’ a real PR disaster for ya’, y’know?”

Kiyoomi tore his gaze away from his teammate, trying to focus on the wildlife on screen and the subtitles at the bottom as the English narrator detailed the life of the average cuttlefish, “Is that so?”

Atsumu nodded enthusiastically, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “Oh yeah, they’re spewin’ some shit about ya’ bein’ a shit kisser. Yer trendin’ and everything, and all the news outlets are eatin’ it up,”

He knows it's complete bullshit, honestly, but it’s not exactly what he was expecting to hear from the other man. Raising an eyebrow at his companion, he looked away from the TV screen once more, “And why is this any of your business?”

“Well, as the officially ranked ‘Hottest Member of the MSBY Black Jackals’, I have to make sure my teammates aren’t gettin’ dragged under with false accusations!” Atsumu exclaimed, taking a few steps forward so he was stood in front of Kiyoomi, directly blocking his view of the screen.

He scowled, glaring up at the blond, “and how do you propose you’re going to do that?”

Atsumu leaned down, a strong, toned arm holding him up against the couch as he bent forward in front of Kiyoomi, closing in until their faces were only mere inches from each other. Amber eyes met Onyx, and the blond’s gaze flickered down to his lips, “well, the plan was to experience it first hand,”

He swallowed hard, eyes wide as he fully took in his current predicament. Miya Atsumu, the hottest man in all of Japan, was attempting to seduce him at nine in the evening on a Wednesday. The cocky, self-centred, sexy bastard himself had decided that the common room of the dorm was the ideal place to get all hot and steamy.

(Kiyoomi had to admit, it could’ve gone so much worse.)

“Only if ya’ want, of course,” Atsumu continued, licking his lips. Kiyoomi watched the motion hungrily. Rationalizing why Atsumu made the decisions he did was an impossible feat he’d long since given up on. 

He could smell the shampoo and soap lingering on Atsumu’s skin, and as the setter shifted his knee was propped up against the couch, Kiyoomi slid his hand into the still-damp, golden locks atop his seducer’s head. A bold move in a bold moment. He supposed it was fitting.

If Atsumu was allowed to be uncharacteristically himself, so was Kiyoomi.

Silence fell between them, and the tension was thick and heavy. Kiyoomi tugged gently on the other man’s hair, allowing a smirk of his own to flutter onto his once-shocked lips, “Not so keen on restoring my honour now?”

Atsumu barked out a laugh, letting his eyes flutter shut and his forehead rest against Kiyoomi’s, “This was supposed to be sexy,” He grinned, “I was tryna to be hot and you just _had_ to start talkin’ like Zuko. Who does that make me? Sokka? Or were ya’ a Zutara shipper?”

Kiyoomi scowled, cheeks burning a bright shade of red, “Shut up. I’m humouring you so kiss me already,”

“Wait, humourin’ me?”

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes, meeting Atsumu’s as the blond pulled back, “You’re so full of shit. If you wanted to make-out, you should’ve just said so,” he snorted, “I know the entire story about my ex was fabricated,"  
  
The setter scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, the tips of his ears dusted pink,“I thought ya’ were gonna reject me,”  
  
“Please, if you’d given me thirty more minutes and cornered me on my way back to my room saying you were horny and asking to fuck, I probably would have agreed.”

“Noted. Ya’ can’t get mad at me if ya’ get accosted by me in the halls now,”

“I can and I _will_ , you roach,” Kiyoomi bit back, “Now are you going to kiss me or keep acting like an ass?”

“Omi-kun, please,” Atsumu began incredulously, leaning back in until the ghost of his breath danced across Kiyoomi’s lips, “Get ready for a lesson from an expert-”

The loud, abrasive whistle of the kettle on the stove made them both jump apart, hearts racing like horses on a track but for all the wrong reasons. Kiyoomi took one started glance at the kitchen where the kettle was, the turned back to Atsumu.

“Ya got to be kiddin’ me,” He grumbled, straightening up as he heard a door down the hallway slam closed.

With a sigh Sakusa stood up, shuffling until he was stood beside Atsumu. He placed a hand gently on his arm and leaned in, unable to help the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “I’ll give you a pass to inconsequently accost me in the halls just this once. Because of the inconveniences we’ve been running into. Sound good?”  
  
“Just peachy, Omi. Just peachy.”

**Author's Note:**

> my good friend Bree is the only reason this is being posted so if you enjoyed, please let me know so I can forward the message to her,,,,
> 
> [Tumblr](https://cxbns.tumblr.com)


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